THE FALL COLLECTIONS / NEW YORK : Oh, Yes--There Were Clothes, Too
For all the clamor about skirt lengths, colors and commercial appeal, do not for a minute believe that the fall fashion shows unfolding here are solely about clothes.
To varying degrees, they are about atmosphere and attitude, promotion and presentation, all exploited to create the impression something new and fascinating is transpiring. The thousand or so witnesses to this biannual rite are made to feel as if they’re a privileged pack of seers who understand the significance of a shrunken mohair sweater far better than the bewildered masses. New, new, new is their mantra.
Would Todd Oldham’s collection of wacky, madly patterned, rainbow-colored clothes seem quite so appealing without Julia Roberts, Susan Sarandon and Mariah Carey clapping in the front row and Cindy Crawford and transvestite Billy Beyond cavorting down the runaway?
Would Oscar de la Renta’s opulent, Far Eastern-inspired creations appear just as dazzling without an army of Beautiful People--Nan Kempner, Carolyne Roehm, Lynn Wyatt--in attendance and a procession of super-models arrayed in a blaze of costume jewelry?
Although no one is suggesting that collections be displayed on hangers in showrooms, the centralized, circus tent venue has designers so carried away by hype and hullabaloo that the clothes get lost.
The contrived excitement preceding Oldham’s evening show--the crush of photographers surrounding Roberts, the preening hordes of groupies--was a prelude to a chaotic grab bag of styles ranging from tie-dyed velvet jeans and shrunken chenille sweaters to skintight beaded gowns worn with jeweled hair clips and floor-grazing fake furs. The clothes practically screamed, “Hey, Look at Me!” which explains why Oldham is the label of choice among club crawlers and movie stars.
Among the zany styles were some salable items, such as classic pin-striped suits and flippy skirts topped by little jackets with fake fur collars and cuffs. But it was the campy creations--riotously colored patchwork jackets, pearl-studded fishnet gowns, velvet slip dresses dangling with pompons--that drove the audience wild.
Anna Sui’s fashion circus lacked Oldham’s star power--Vanessa Williams, Sofia Coppola and daddy Francis were pretty much ignored by the paparazzi --but it overflowed with groupies arrayed in black leather, spiky platinum hair, silver backpacks and nose rings.
Sui didn’t send anything particularly witty or novel down the runway, unless you consider Day Glo-colored fake fur, pleated cheerleader skirts, rubberized T-shirts and--what else--shrunken mohair sweaters news, and most of the fashion crowd doesn’t.
Still, Sui’s giddy, riotously colorful creations had a sort of loopy charm that summoned up visions of little girls dressing up in mommy’s finery.
Fake fur coats as fluffy as bath mats, bright Lycra jumpsuits and flippy Lurex slip dresses were gussied up with heaps of gangly plastic jewelry, spike-heeled boots and pompon ski caps.
Except for some popcorn-knit sweaters, suede vests and plaid mohair suits, most of the clothes were fun and nonsense, which suits Sui’s fans just fine.
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The atmosphere surrounding De La Renta’s show was, as one would expect, calm and civilized. Attractive, navy-suited attendants escorted guests to their seats adorned with tiny packages of the designer’s Volupte perfume. In this circle, rings were square-cut diamonds on fingers, not gold hoops in noses.
Sure to delight De La Renta’s gilded gang was a big, luxurious collection featuring short, slender clothes in spice colors and burnished paisleys paired with spotted fake furs and whimsical little hats shaped like pagodas. The strong Far Eastern flavor--Mandarin collars, tassels, embroidered velvets resembling Oriental carpets--seemed more Orient Express than Bistro Garden.
De La Renta’s evening extravaganzas, exemplified by chiffon paisley pants floating beneath a multicolored sequin-embroidered jacket rimmed with fake cheetah, were way over the top, even for the diamond-by-the-yard brigade.
In contrast to De La Renta’s too-rich feast, Bill Blass presented easy tailored clothes in lively color combinations--mint green and pink was a favorite--worn by models with long, shiny hair, subtle makeup and very little jewelry.
Blass caters to the same over-40 socialite as De La Renta, but rarely have the two designers been so far apart style-wise. Women unembarrassed by excess will go with De La Renta; those who prefer understated luxe, such as a fragile gray lace cocktail dress concealed beneath a camel polo coat, will choose Blass.
Swing coats, cuffed trousers, tailored jackets over vests and thick fabrics, including double-faced wool melton, dominated the daytime scene.
For evening, amber or bronze cut-velvet pants were teamed with tunics or tweed jackets. A layered chiffon halter dress with a jeweled bolero was the ticket for more formal wingdings.
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One of the loveliest surprises of the week was the tiny, informal breakfast show held by Vera Wang at the Regency Hotel.
Although she has been pigeonholed as a bridal designer (and creator of Nancy Kerrigan’s skating outfits), her new line of evening ready-to-wear should make Wang a fashion force. Holly Hunter, Sharon Stone and Marisa Tomei are already members of her fan club, which is sure to grow by the time the Oscars roll around again.
Wang’s chic, minimalist styles, most of them in black or navy crepe and tissue-thin layers of chiffon, looked serene and sexy in a Grace Kelly sort of way. Her signature sheer illusion back and sleeves appeared on long, sinuous dresses and a few frothy taffeta ball gowns inspired by British designer John Galliano.
White satin cuffs, a ripple of tiny satin buttons down the back or a sliver of antique gold lame were other Wang details. The clothes were elegant but fresh and young, a combination rarely seen, unfortunately, on the runways.
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Next: The collections of Richard Tyler, Anne Klein, Ralph Lauren, Donna Karan and Calvin Klein.
